


New Territory

by geekinlikeaboss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-06 17:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13416099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekinlikeaboss/pseuds/geekinlikeaboss





	1. Chapter 1

The burdens of being an alpha aren't something you can share. Others may wish to help, and thats all well and good if it's needed. After all, why have a pack, even a ramshackled and divided pack, if you can not rely on them. But even then, when a decision had to be made, it falls on the back of the alpha. In success or failure, good times or bad, the pack looks to it's leader to know that everything will be alright. The burden was all on them. So maybe Scott's behavior shouldn't come as a complete surprise when he seemed determined to keep the peace no matter the cost. A truce, even an uneasy truce, was better than an all out aggressive action. Sometimes forgiveness seemed the more reasonable option. At the end of the day, Scott was alpha, and Stiles knew he could only question his decisions up to a certain point before he was overstepping. 

In such situations, he decided to take his own burdens to heart. 

In World History, they'd read about the reign of Elizabeth I, and how it brought about a Golden Age in England. Their teacher had been quick to remind them that, while a lot of this could be credited to Elizabeth's personal skills as a politician and policy maker, it was in no small part due to her clandestine spy-master, Frances Walsingham. 

Well Scott was no Gloriana Regina. And Stiles knew he was no Walsingham. But sometimes, in order for the pack to thrive as a whole, someone has to be willing to take on tasks that the ruling body can't or wont' do. And if that meant going behind his alpha's back to keep their territory safe, then so be it. 

“You need to see this for the trouble it is.” Deaton explained to the young alpha, his expression one of grim countenance. “I know Stiles means well, but his powers have begun to grow beyond our ability to control.”

“He's working for the good of the pack.” Scott argued in a tone of soft anger. “He's just gone a bit overboard is all. If I speak to him, tell him to reign it in...”

“Then maybe it will work. Today. But what about tomorrow? My concern is that in the future, he won't respect you enough to keep doing these things behind closed doors. He'll do them out in the open. And Mr. Stallinski's willingness to overlook your ruling as alpha of the pack, take matters into his own hands, could easily gain him the admiration of others. So my question to you is, what do you want to do about this? You can talk to him of course. Maybe he'll see reason. But the more likely conclusion is he'll bow to your authority today and tomorrow he'll have others joined to his way of thinking. Such a schism can quickly erode the pack, place our members into factions which only undermines your authority.”

“What are you suggesting, Deaton?” Scott could feel his hackles raise. “Stiles is my best friend. He's always been there for me. He's always had my back.”

“Which is why this is so troubling. He's doing this because he thinks it's going to support you. But it's just calling your word and your control of this group into question.” Deaton scrunched his lips together, looking none too pleased. “I'm not suggesting that we do anything to harm him. Your pack is your family. You wouldn't want anyone else to think you were capable of something like that.”

“Then what?”

“We bind him. Just temporarily...” His tone grew louder as Scot began to pace, fists clenched by his sides. “Until we can make him understand how much trouble he's causing!”

“Bind him how? And to who? You?” Scott laughed. “Not a chance. I trust you Deaton, but the case you just made against my friend also makes you a potential problem.” 

“I don't want it.” He said, hands up to soothe the upset alpha. “I don't even know if I could subvert his will to my own, not with as strong as your friend has become. Power corrupts, Scott. Always has. What we really need is you.”

“Me?”

“He likes you. He listens to you. Stiles is your friend he trusts you immensely. Add to that the power of a binding ritual? It won't just be your will over his. It will be his affection and loyalty that makes him want to obey your commands.” 

“I don't like this. It sound...creepy.” Scott continued, looking much like a wolf in an unfamiliar cage, prowling to find the exist. “Like slipping him a mickey or something.”

“No nothing like that. He'll be entirely conscious, he'll still have his own thoughts, his own will, his own voice. It just means he won't be able to cast spells without you giving the order. Thats all. We're binding his magic to you, nothing else.” Deaton stiffened, perhaps a bit insulted that his friend thought he'd be willing to do something so underhanded. But perhaps...he had always been the sort of man with the belief that the ends justify the means. “It's for the best, Scott.”

“I need to think about this.” He insisted. “Nobody makes a move until I say so. Still...make sure we know where he is at all times. Get what you need ready just in case.” Scott heaved a sigh, his deep brow knitting together between his eyes and he grimaced. “I don't want it to come to this.”

“I know. And I understand. But your first responsibility is the pack. You have to put the group before personal relationships.”

“I know that. Otherwise I wouldn't have let you get this far on it.” He raised a finger to the druid. “I want your word that he won't be hurt. Mentally, physically...”

“No. It's not going to be pleasant but it won't damage him. I swear it. We'll just need to restrain him properly until the binding is finished. But Stiles won't be harmed.”

~~~

He ran as fast as he could, gripping at the wound on his arm and looking for somewhere to take shelter and clean it up. If he didn't do something to cover the scent soon, it wouldn't matter how far away he got, Scott's pack would pick up on him and be right on his tail. He paused as he saw a garbage bin up ahead, ducking into it the hopes that would be enough for a moment while he got his bearings. Stiles tucked over to a corner and pulled out his phone, trying to figure out exactly where he was. 

He should have known something was wrong days ago. Seemed like he couldn't turn a corner without a member of the pack somewhere close by, often more than one of them seeming to have him in their sights. It never occurred to him they might know about his unauthorized movement, or if it did, he never thought this would be the end result. 

A shuffle through the leaves made he freeze up and he listened for anyone approaching. He couldn't hope to evade them for long. Especially not if he remained in Beacon Hills. There were too many pack members by now, especially including their allies. He'd seen to many of them at the ritual to know who he could or couldn't trust. Stiles waited until everything had gone silent once more and pulled up his GPS, hoping he could get a signal. 

~Less than half a mile from the highway. Two thirds of a mile from the nearest public spot, a diner he'd driven past but never been in.~ That was a gamble. They'd be looking for him on the highways if he tried to flag down a car. But the woods was sure to be full of werewolves. He'd never make it to the diner. “Okay. Okay what to do.” Stiles closed his eyes and tried to think of a plan. 

In the end, he picked the highway. It was a Saturday night and everyone would be heading out of Beacon Hills to find something worth doing. There was a pretty good chance he could flag someone down and offer them gas money to get him out of town. He stared down at his mother's phone number for a good long while before he realized he couldn't risk calling her. Sooner or later, Scott would ask her if she knew where he was. Better if she hadn't heard from him in days.

Just as he was about to put the phone away, it buzzed.

Scott: Where are you?

Stiles felt like he was gonna slap himself in the head. 

Stiles: Seriously!? R u insane? Why the fuck you I tell you that?

Scott: Because I'm your friend and I want you to understand. 

He texted back like crazy, already starting to feel his chest hurt at the sight of Scott's round icon on the messenger. 

Stiles: Then why didn't you come talk to be before? Huh? Why did you kidnap me if we're friends?

Scott: …

Stiles rolled his eyes. Those three dots stayed bobbing up and down for a very long time, which could only mean he was either typing out something really long or he kept erasing it, trying to say what he thought would work.

Scott: Because right now, I don't know if I can trust you.

Stiles felt a hot fury in his face, his thumb stopped right before he hit the call button. The realization hit him like a brick upside the head. Scott was trying to keep him occupied while they searched for him, make sure he stayed in the same basic location! He sucked in a deep breath, tossed the phone down in the garbage, and peeked out of the trash bin. He scanned his surroundings cautiously before slowly, quietly escaping and running off towards the direction of the highway. 

Being around werewolves has it's benefits. One of which is knowing how to evade one to at least some extent. There was a creek bed near by which bought him some time, hiding his trail in the water even if it did make a lot of noise. He avoided stepping in the mud so he wouldn't leave tracks behind and stopped by a bridge to wash his wound and rip up his shirt so he could bind it tightly. He pushed onward, listening to even the slightest sounds around him. He didn't fear that they'd kill him, but Stile's was no fool. He knew what a binding ritual was, or at least he'd seen on in books before now. That was almost worst. Standing in the middle of the forest, realizing your best friend had so little faith in you that he was willing to put shackles on your abilities. 

“And you're the one who can't trust me.” He muttered. A car passed by somewhere up ahead. Stiles felt a flutter of hope in his chest and ran for the road, hoping he'd be able to get someone to stop quickly. His sneakers slapped wetly on the asphalt and he looked around, licking his lips in worry as a pair of headlights came up. “Hey! Hey stop! Stop!” He waved his hands, but the car sped right past. “Shit!”

Off in the distance, he heard a howl.

“Okay seriously, If you're trying to sneak up on a guy maybe don't start howling.” He grumbled, though his heart beat faster. They still sounded a fair ways off. He had time, precious time. 

Another car passed him by without even stopping. A few minutes later a truck did the same, flicking a cigarette butt out the window before moving on. The next howl was much closer, and Stile began to wonder if he'd have to defend himself. Could he defend himself without anybody getting hurt?

Another car came driving up the road and he waved, trying to look less frantic than before. Nobody wanted to stop for a panicked looking teenager wandering out of the woods. 

Sure enough the car slowed and an older looking man in a hunting jacket rolled down the window. “What cha doin out here?”

“Hi. UH, I'm really sorry my friend and I were uhm...camping out in the woods and uh...had a little too much to drink. I think they went into town but when I woke up they were gone. Could you uhm...could you get me to the nearest bar? Maybe they're all there.” He asked, eyes dodging around, wondering if this would work. The man looked him up and down doubtfully. Stiles reached into his pocket and pulled out a $20. “I can pay for gas if you'd be okay with that.”

The guy nodded. “Get in the car. I'll take you up the road a few miles I guess. Headed that direction anyhow.” 

~Little blessings!~ Stiles ran around to the car and slipped into the side seat. As he was buckling his seat belt he looked out into the woods and saw red eyes glowing at him from the dark. “Thank. Uh...can you hurry?”

 

~~~

The high, whiny tone of jutebox music echoed in the air as he walked through the bar room, the crunch of peanuts under his shoes making his footing a bit uneven. A few people looked his direction, but for the most part seemed to be nursing their beers. Stiles looked around cautiously, still feeling bedraggled and confused, and tried to decide what to do from here out. 

He had $50, a Cold Stone Creamery punch card, and wet clothes on him. That was it. Well...that and his little gift. Frankly, he didn't want to risk it right now. Deaton had some kind of tail on him, that much he was sure of. How else could he have known who was behind all that extra-curricular activity? If he used it now, he might as well flash a big neon sign saying :COME AND GET ME: Make it from bad to worse, the blood loss was already starting to get to him. Combine that with the natural exhaustion and dizziness often proceeding were bites or marks and he wasn't going to make it much further than this tonight. 

He went over to the bar and flopped down on the stool, leaning forward as the barman turned around and looked him over. 

“We card here kiddo.” 

“Huh? No. No I don't want anything to drink.” He thought for a second. “Actually, do you guys have Coke?”

“Pepsi okay?”

“Yeah thats fine.” He pulled out his money and paid for it, feeling suddenly very out of place in this setting. It wasn't that it was a dive bar. Kind of a nice spot actually. Looked like most local hangouts where people go to grab a pint, watch the game, and order pizza or burgers. “Do you guys have a telephone or something I can use?” 

The barman pointed to a sign which said :Phone for Management & Staff Only: 

“Even if it's an emergency?” 

“You need me to call 911 for you?” 

“No just...I need to get a hotel for the night. You know of any place around?” He sat up. “Somewhere really cheap?”

“Nope. Well yes, but it's not the kind of place you'd want to go. They rent by the hour. Besides, you don't look old enough to go to a hotel on your own.”

“Twenty-three.” The barman looked down his nose at him. “No seriously.” He took out his wallet and showed the man his ID. He took it and checked it over, then nodded. 

“You're twenty-three but you're not drinking?” 

“Not in the mood for it. Found myself kind of stranded out here and I need a place to stay for the night. Thats all.” He hoped that sounded convincing. It wasn't that far off from the truth really. 

“Oh. Well if thats the case you can bunk with me tonight.” He pointed at the stairs in the back. “I sleep above the bar.”

“You own this place?”

“Yeup. Derek Hall of Halls Pub.” He held out his hand and Stiles reached for it, then winced sharply and switched hands. Derek took it none the less, looking him up and down. “I got a First Aid kit too if you're in need of it.”

“No just a...sore shoulder.” 

“I can smell the blood from here.” He leaned in closer. “More then that, I can smell scents from somebody I don't know all over you. I smell fear, and drainage ditch run off, and...” He licked his lips, taking a long pause. “And I don't want any trouble in my bar.”

Stiles saw him reach under the bar and wondered if he was about to get shot.

Derke handed him the kit and jerked a thumb. “Go upstairs and get yerself fixed up. Go ahead and grab a shower, get a change of clothes and all. Dump anything with your scent on it in the laundry hamper. I'll take care of it.” He rubbed his hand through his scruffy beard before pouring a drink and sliding it down the bar to one of his patrons. 

Stiles took the kit and swallowed hard. “You don't have to do this for me.”

“Don't you know a good turn when you see one? Go on. Get.” 

For a moment he wondered if this was a bright idea, but given that he didn't have any others, he wasn't in a position to be rude about it. If nothing else he could shed his old clothing and make it harder for Scott to come looking for him. He thanked the man shyly and headed up the stairs, opening the small door at the top.

Inside was a small, semi clean loft apartment, only a few bits of clothing tossed about here and there. A bed, small kitchenette, a couch and tv, and a small bathroom seemed to negate the need for any more developed tour. He could still hear the dull noises from down stairs as he began to look for clothing that might fit him well enough. 

It occurred to him how dangerous of a position he was in. After all, he'd never really been afraid of werewolves. Aware of them sure. But never afraid. But now he was in a bar with a were he didn't know, but could smell out way too much about him to feel comfortable with. Stiles didn't know what to make of it, but shed his clothing none the less and locked the bathroom door behind himself as he turned on the shower head. 

Nothing felt quite so relieving as a hot shower, even in the most dire situations. On the flip side, few things allowed the time for a quick cry quite like the roar of a shower around you. Betrayal was one of those things that sunk deep, especially for someone you saw as your closest friend and companion. He wiped his brow and took a washcloth to cover the weeping, feeling weak in comparison. Where was he supposed to go from here? 

He was so focused on his own thoughts that he didn't hear the door open until a cough interrupted his train of though. “Towel.” Derek said, flopping it down on the toilet seat. 

“Shit! I..I thought I locked that door!”

“You probably did. Lock don't work from the inside.”

“You coulda knocked!” He snapped indignantly. 

“Well I'm of the opinion that you don't need to knock on doors in your own house so...” He looked at the figure hidden by the translucent shower curtain. 

“What are you staring at?” 

Derek paused for a long moment. “You. I'm looking at you.”

“...could you not?” A soft laughter growled through the tiny bathroom, but he could see his host turning around so that his back was to Stiles. “Thanks.”

“No problem. So, who you running from? Old friend? Old lover?”

“Why's that matter to you?” Stiles scrubbed himself quickly and thoroughly, wanting to be clean of any scent. 

“Nothing. Except that you smell like were and I'm the only alpha for ten miles so I get a little curious if I think another pack's going to wander into my territory.” He explained simply. “Need to know if I should be prepared for trouble.”

“I don't know. Probably not. I'm not planning on staying past tomorrow morning.” He explained, hoping he wasn't about to find himself naked out on the road. 

“Not gonna do you much good. Shower and new clothes will help for a little while, give you an hour or two head start. But if you really wanna mask your scent well...I know other ways.” The barman explained, looking over his shoulder slightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah so do I.”

Derek shrugged. “Offers on the table. Unless you got another alpha who can help you at the moment...”

“It's not that I don't appreciate the help but I literally just met you ten minutes ago. Moving a bit fast don't you think?” Stiles grabbed the towel and wrapped it around his waist before stepping out. He pulled back a bit, and mind you there wasn't much room to begin with, as Derek stepped forward. 

“Depends on how much protection you need. I'm not saying you have to do anything you don't want to do but...” he leaned in close and took a deep, gruff breath, pulling Stiles's scent into his nose and grunting with satisfaction. “I can smell you and you just bathed. And you? You don't smell like anything I've ever known.” His eyes shone brightly in the dimly lit room, that uneasy balance between curiosity and danger that seemed so terribly enticing. “What are you?”

“Not your business.” Stiles shuffled out, drying himself off and grabbing the clothing he'd put together. “Look I appreciate everything. I do. But I'd just assume not get you more involved than you already are. So why don't you just...hey!”

Derek grabbed his arm and sat down across from him. “Nasty gashes.” He said nonchalantly as he removed the bandages. “He get too rough with ya? That why you ran?”

“What? No! No it was...” He hesitated to say accident. Scott had been trying to stop him from running and reached out to grab him. Stiles wished he could say it was unintentional. His friend had sure enough looked horrified at the deep, bloody marks. But right now? Well, who was to say? 

“Humph.” Derek didn't comment further, but undid the kit and began to clean the wounds. Despite his wide, muscular hands, his touches were surprisingly gentle. He doused the injury in alcohol, blowing on it softly to help alleviate the stinging. He rubbed ointment on before taking out a tincture. “Were marks tend to take a while to heal. You're going to need a few days before you're ready to travel.”

“I'm fine.” 

“Sure you are. Big tough guy like you can take on a pack barehanded huh?” He laughed, that throaty, gruff sound bubbling through his lips. 

“I know what your offering and I'm not interested. Okay? I literally met you half an hour ago.” Stiles rolled his eyes. 

“That your only objection?”

“That and you're creeping me out and you keep sniffing me and you're overdoing it even for an alpha.” He pulled himself into a more comfortable position and inced hard, teeth bared as Derek neatly began to bandage him up again tightly. He yanked his hand back and looked down at the work, nodding contentedly. “Not that I'm not grateful or anything but I'm not that grateful. I'll set up on the couch and be out of your hair in the morning.”

“Or you could set up on the bed.”

“Oh my god!”

“No. I'm not saying like that. You need cover, right? Well sleep in my bed, wear my clothes, let my scent get mixed up with yours. If your 'friends' drive through here and come looking, they'll be too focused on an unknown alpha in their midst. Might even pass you over without another sniff.” Derek suggested. 

“Thats...” He hesitated. “...not the worst idea. Hell it might even work.” They'd seen him get in a car and head this direction. Scott was sure to send them to check the closest stops in case he'd pulled off there. If they were tracking his abilities somehow, then he couldn't use his powers to give himself any kind of protection. He needed another way of covering his tracks. 

“I'm not gonna do anything unless you tell me you want it done.” Derek reassured him smoothly. “Despite what you're clearly thinking, I'm not that type of guy. Well I mean I'm the type of guy who occasionally fucks other guys.” He shrugged. “But I do want them to be in on the whole process.” 

“Yeah I can tell what a sweetheart you are.” Stiles stood up and looked around. “I'll sleep in the bed. With you, whenever you come to bed and all. But no bullshit okay? I've dealt with enough crap tonight and I don't need to meet the reason you're the alpha.” 

“Did your ex boyfriend try lines like that on you? If so, I can see why you left him.”

“He wasn't my ex boyfriend!”

 

~~~

“The pack is looking for him.” Deaton said as he clicked off the phone, trying to console Scott. “He probably won't go too far, but we should have someone go to his house, check up on his mother. We don't want the police getting involved so we need to feed her a story. Tell her you guys are going camping. And you came by to pick up some clothing...”

“Do you really think you're in a position to be giving me orders right now? Especially with how badly you just fucked this up, Deaton?” Scott rounded on him. “You told me this would be fine. That we could handle this quickly and Stiles would be entirely safe.” He bared his teeth, the deep red of his eyes flashing with imminent danger. Well where is he now, huh? Out there, outside of our territory where anybody could pick him up and do god knows what with him!” 

“We'll find him. It's just a matter of time before Isaac and the others lock onto his scent and...”

“No. I'll find him. I want you to get the binding ritual ready. We can't exactly take it back now. Might as well go forward as planned. I want Isaac and everyone else running through town, make sure he hasn't hidden himself around here somewhere. No matter what happens, nobody hurts him!” Scott gave the order, flexing his fingers as if he could still feel blood on the claws. “When this is over, he'll understand why we had to do it. But for now...for now he just needs to know we won't hurt him unless we have to.” 

“In that case, are you sure you're the best person to go after him right now?” Deaton questioned smartly and saw the immense weight of guilt shadowing his alpha's eyes. 

“I am still his alpha.” Scott reminded him smoothly. “And I'm still his friend. This...this is for his own good. He'll see that once it's done. He know I won't let anything bad happen to him. But for his safety and the safety of the pack, our territory, this has to happen.” He pointed at Deaton. “Get to work.”

 

~~~

Stiles jolted away when Derek came to bed at around 4 in the morning. His only warning was the drop of heavy shoes by the side of the bed and the sound of clothing being balled up and tossed in the hamper. There was the bouncing of springs and a heavy weight settled in behind him as the covers were rustled about. Stiles tried not to make any movements to indicate he'd been woken up, but it hardly mattered. Derek must have been worn to the bone when he finished with his work. He flopped down and mere moments later a loud, deep snore shook the room. 

He waited for a few minuets, wanting to be sure nothing he couldn't handle was about to happen, but once the man's breathing fell into a steady rhythm, he felt confident enough to close his eyes and start getting back to sleep. Sure enough, as he took a few deep breaths to steady himself, he could detect it. That subtle, rich musk that always seemed to hang around an alpha. Some people swore up and down they couldn't smell it, or maybe if you'd been around it long enough, you just didn't pick up on it any longer. But it was there. 

Stiles wondered if it was stronger than Scott's. He tried to remember the scent of his friend and couldn't quite recall it. Perhaps Derek's was too overpowering. He curled himself up in the blankets tightly, trying not to let the reality of it sink in any more than it already had. He shuddered, not really from the cold, but rather the cold realization that his best friend, the man he'd trusted had just betrayed him. ~Why didn't you just come to me? Huh? Why didn't you come and talk and I could have explained why I had to make that choice? Someone had to be willing to step up and get shit done, Scott!~ 

He must have been fidgeting in the bed, or maybe Derek was used to sleeping on one side. At some point during the wee hours of the morning, the man tossed over and threw a heavy arm around his bed companion, snoring loudly in Stiles's ear. He crooked up neatly into the other man's body, not sure if he wanted to be there, or if it was just comforting to have the presence of someone else near when he felt so lost. “Don't get any ideas.” he grumbled and tucked a pillow up under his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Werewolves are peculiar about their territorial boundaries. It isn't as simple a matter as walking up and pissing on a few trees to mark the area. It's a matter of what you need, how many you've got in your pack, and whether or not you are capable of holding it. Little traditions exist to keep the peace between rival packs, ensuring the overall safety of the group. After all, nobody wants humans to catch wind of things and cause issues. But the most basic understanding is a fairly simple one. You don't go marching into somebody else's territory without a damn good reason. 

Scott could smell the other alpha from five miles away. His scent was powerful, potent, bordering on aggressive. It invaded his nostrils, causing a bristling at the back of his neck. The sensation was overpowering, blotting out any other scents he might catch as he stood at the edge of his territory. “He's hiding there.”

“Of course he is.” Deaton looked out across the highway. “It's a smart move, slipping into another alpha's area.”

“He's a member of my pack, I have every right to go over there and...”

“No you don't. You've got to remember things are at a delicate stage right now. You're still young, still untried against others of your kind. This alpha maybe older, more experienced, more powerful. You don't want to risk being openly aggressive without due cause. Besides that, can you really call Stiles a member of your pack when you moved against him?”

“We weren't going to hurt him. And if he's in my pack I have a right to ensure he's not a threat to others.” Scott argued. “Isn't it my responsibility to ensure I keep control over my territory? My people?”

“It is. And if we had gotten a hold of him quietly, without a fuss, then it wouldn't have been a problem. But now there's other weres involved, and who knows what else. We need to be patient before we make our next move.” Deaton offered him wise council. “Are you sure he hasn't gotten out of range?”

“Positive. I could smell him for a long while there. He wasn't that far away. Now this new alpha's scent is covering his. If I could get closer I might be able to know for sure.” Scott took a deep breath. Sensing was about much more than catching a fair scent on the wind. It was about knowing your pack, about feeling them out in a chaotic world full of different sensations and interference. It wasn't just that he could smell another alpha. It's that it was so overwhelming that this new rival could blot out Stiles entirely from him. “He's still a member of this pack.” 

“Is he?”

 

~~~

Stiles was starting to get used to the bar. He'd spent the first few nights tossing and turning, sure that Scott was going to burst in at any moment and demand he return. He barely slept, found himself looking out the window at odd hours, jumping at any odd noise. But even the paranoid have to catch some shut eye sooner or later. By the fourth night, Stiles passed out cold on the couch, only waking briefly to discover someone had thrown a blanket over him before he could get cold. 

He could only assume that person was Derek “No respect for personal space” Hale. 

The bar was fairly easy going. It opened up at just after three and the regulars shuffled in for beers and occasionally a burger and fries. Not exactly gourmet fare but Stiles had to admit the burgers were good. Things were slow now that Tuesday had rolled around but they still got busy right around seven every night with people dropping by to watch whatever sport was on the television, play a little pool and escape their lives for the moment. Derek seemed to be on good terms with the town and most of the people greeted him with a smile, tip of the hat and a little bit of gossip. 

The first time he'd seen another were at the bar, Stiles was sure he'd been caught. He'd done everything he could to stay out of sight. Last thing he needed was word getting back to Scott, letting the man know just where he was. But Derek called him over nonetheless. He drew closer to the lovely, blond woman who looked him over like someone had just handed her a baby deer with a limp. 

“This is Erica. One of my associates. She has some interesting news I thought you might want to hear.” 

“So this is the little stray pup you've taken in? Really Derek, you've gotten soft.” She smiled and her teeth flashed white in the dim room. “Don't look so nervous. You're under the alpha's roof which means you're sacrosanct in this little town.”

“I'm Stiles.” He introduced himself, taking a seat at the bar stool and looking quickly around the room.

“Aww. Scared little bunny. Don't worry. The wolves aren't hungry just yet. But I know a few who might be sniffing around.” She looked from Derek to Stiles. “I was down at the hardware store. Couple of kids from the town over were looking around for a 'friend' of theirs. Flashing your picture on their cells. They've spread a rumor that you're a runaway from a broken home, that kind of thing. Cute little story line, smart too. They don't want to get you in trouble but they're really worried so they're asking people to call them and not the cops.” 

“What did they look like?” He asked, wondering who Scott had sent after him. A lower ranking pack member could get away with wandering in and out of another territory without being too noticed. It happened all the time. But if an alpha trespassed, it was sure to gain attention and warrant a face to face meeting. Scott wouldn't risk it until he knew for sure where Stiles was hiding.

“One really homely girl with red hair and kind of a lost look in her eyes. The other has a real boy next door thing going on. They didn't smell like weres though.”

“Lydia and Corey. And they didn't smell like weres cause they're not.” He cut himself off there. Even with everything that had happened, he wasn't sure how much he trusted this new little group. Certainly not enough to give them too much information about his friends. 

“That's a smart move though. Most people around here got a lot of respect for 'family privacy'. Probably not too much of a risk of people going to the cops. Still, you should stay out of sight when you can. Probably wouldn't hurt to alter your appearance a bit. Get some hair dye. Pierce your ears...” Derek began as he cleaned out a mug. 

“Thanks. I'll consider it.” He looked over at the two of them. “Why are you helping me?” 

“What you don't think it's out of sheer altruism?” Derek began, his crooked smile shining past the red in his eyes. It warranted a sharp laugh from Erica, who rolled her eyes in his direction. “Shut up. We'll talk later. For the moment, you get the rest of the pack together. Tell ‘em to come by in the morning and we'll decide what to do from here. If we've got other people sniffing around in our territory then this is no longer a private matter but a pack concern. And you...” he nodded to Stiles. “Get back upstairs. I'll get that hair dye.”

“Go blond.” Erica said before grabbing her purse and keys off the bar. “Blondes have more fun.” 

“I'll keep it in mind.” He bustled up the stairs, trying to ignore the looks he was getting from one or two of the patrons. It couldn't look good. A nineteen year old staying up in the local bar owners apartment, a runaway kid who's friends were flashing his picture around town. Somebody was sure to take notice sooner or later. He had a limited amount of time before the cops or worse showed up and took him back home. 

None of this seemed to bother Derek. He hadn't told his impromptu house guest that he had to stay there. It wasn't like the doors were bolted and the windows nailed shut or anything. But Stiles had admitted to himself long ago that there was something about an alphas’ presence which was equally intimidating and safe. Despite how obvious it was that the barman was attracted to him, he hadn't pushed things beyond a casual flirtation, seemingly all the more amused by Stiles's frustration. Derek flopped an arm over him at night, walked in while he was showering. But really if that was the price for a roof over his head and an earnest protector then so be it. He could live with that. 

He sat down on the couch and turned on the news. Five nights here and still he hadn't seen anything about himself on the news as a missing person. That in and of itself was odd. Had Deaton done something? He had always been so firm about the ethics of using powers on others, yet he believed in the concept of doing what was necessary to protect the people closest to him. The pack was as good as his family. If Scott felt his friends new powers were a threat...

“Did they think they were protecting others from me, or me from myself?” he muttered out loud, staring up at the cracked stucco of the ceiling. He pulled his knees up to his chest, looking at the pictures of his friends on his phone. He'd killed his Life360 and GPS locator apps, wiping them clear so nobody could track him. It was sort of ironic. He used to have those just in case he got into more trouble than he could handle and needed Scott to come and pull him out. 

He stared down at a picture of the two of them hanging out on a park bench, Scott's arm around his shoulder as they laughed about something, caught in a candid moment. “Why couldn't you just come and talk to me?” Stiles whispered, asking himself the same question he'd been going over since this began. “Were you that scared I was doing something dangerous?”

“Maybe he was scared that you are something dangerous.” 

Stiles jumped to see Derek coming up the stairs, flopping off a hand towel onto the banister. “Haha very funny.” he grumbled and closed the photos.

“I'm not trying to be funny.” Derek said with a look of consideration on his face. He wandered over to the fridge and grabbed a beer, holding one out in offer to Stiles. When it was refused, he grabbed a Pepsi instead and handed it back to his roommate. “I've been wondering about your little predicament, which is quickly becoming my predicament and thus our predicament. And it occurred to me that when most packs have a difficult or problematic member, they have one of two options. Either they kill them outright, which for the moment they seem unwilling to do as you got here with only a few minor scratches on you. Or they trap them, put them under watch and do something which ensures that pack member can't do anything without their collar getting tightened. Now you're not a were. I woulda known if you were. I know you're not a druid. Or a banshee or a chimera or anything else I know about. But there's a sense of power about you that I..well I just can't quite place. So, Stiles, I'm left here wondering what exactly it is your friends were trying to put a leash around?”

“That's not really any of your business.”

“Seeing as how you're my guest and I'm inviting a whole lot of trouble here on your behalf, I'd say that makes it my business.” 

“It's not that I'm not grateful. But given everything I think I'm entitled to keep at least a few secrets to myself.” He wrapped his arms up around his chest, feeling just a little defensive. “Look, I don't mean to seem ungrateful...”

“No you just wanna be ungrateful.” Derek sat down in the large old chair he kept in the corner. “All I'm saying is there's been a lot of interesting activity lately. Lot of problems and strange stories making their way through the rumor mill. Now I find myself currently housing a runaway from another pack who's apparently in possession of some rather unique abilities, powerful enough that he's making his own people feel nervous. Powerful enough that they feel like they gotta put a leash around him.” He rocked back and forth slowly, eyes never wavering from Stiles. “And I think to myself...that's the sort of person I'd like to have on my side.”

“You think I'd betray my friends for a were I barely know?”

“No. No I don't. But I think your friends betrayed you.” Derek stood, towering over him, his hand rubbing at his scraggly beard growth. “I don't wanna put a leash around your neck, Stiles. That's never been my intention. You don't believe me? Talk to my pack in the morning. I'm alpha. They come when they're called, but I don't ask any of ‘em to take on anything I won't take on myself.” 

“What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that, if you want to be a member of this pack, we've got a position open. If you throw your lot in with me, your buddy there couldn't drag you back if he tried. Right now, I'm just covering your scent. But you bond with me? He'd be able to stand right in front of you and not know you were there.” 

“Bond with you? You mean...” Stiles grinned. Then started to laugh. “Wow! Wow okay if...if this is a come on it is literally the shittiest come on I've ever heard!” 

“Well now that may be but that don't mean I'm not telling the truth. Our kind, we need packs. We need family to back us up when things get rough. Your family, the one you had to run from, they decided it was better to have you dealt with instead of giving you the respect as a member of their pack. Now… I may not be the best alpha who ever lived, but everybody in my family has a voice. You come to my people, and we don't turn our back on you.”

Stiles licked his lips, a sense of fear and frustration whirling about in his brain. “I disobeyed my alpha's orders. Got involved with situations he wanted us to stay out of. Scott wanted to let things stay peaceful. Well, if a dog bites you once, you can forgive it. If it keeps growling and raising its hackles at you, you know it's gonna bite again and...and...”

“And he wasn't willing to do what needed to be done.” Derek surmised. “Would that we all lived in a world where peace could be a reality. An alpha's first responsibility is to his pack. His second is to his territory. This friend of yours failed you the moment he decided to try and fetter your abilities. And he failed his territory by not cleaning out the things that threaten it. Seems to me he's a piss poor alpha all around.”

“He's still my friend. And I can't turn my back on him. Not...not unless I have your word that nothing will happen to him.” 

Derek chewed the inside of his lip, but gave a curt nod. “I won't put my teeth to his throat. But if you want the protection of this pack to go beyond tonight, it's in or out. I have to keep my people safe too.”

Stiles’ hand clenched around the phone as he thought about everything this would mean. He wanted to believe he could go back home and convince his friend to talk to him, find some way of fixing things. But Derek was right. Scott had let problems and threats develop rather than taking the initiative to deal with them head on and keep the people and the pack safe. “I'm in. Yeah I'm definitely in.” 

“Well then, definitely in...” Derek put down the drink and raised a hand up to Stiles' cheek, smoothing his rough and calloused fingers over the soft skin. He leaned in close, drawing in the scent of the younger man as if tasting him. “Shall we?”

There were plenty of ways to become part of a pack. Werewolves tended to prefer the ritual of a full moon hunt, a new presumptive member making their first kill and pledging to share their victories with their new family. But given the diversity of the supernatural world, this method didn't always work for other kinds of creatures. Most of the more human kinds would simply take a vow, pledging their unwavering service to the pack itself or taking on a difficult task to prove their loyalty. Some packs had special, specific rituals or family traditions handed down for generations. 

But there was no better way to be utterly immersed in ones new pack, than to feel the clutching of an alpha marking you as one. 

His heart rate jumped as Derek began to pull down the zipper of his hoodie with languid confidence. He did not appear to be in any big rush for as much as he had seemed intent on doing this. If anything, now that it seemed secured, he was intending to take his time. That dusky swagger did have a kind of rugged, infuriating charm as he pushed a hand up along Stiles back, guiding him back to the bed. 

“Have you ever been in bed with a were before?” He asked candidly, fingers playing along the hem of the jeans before he tugged the shirt out from it. 

“No. Well yeah. Actually. There uh...there was this girl...” 

“Ever been with a male were before?” 

Stiles licked his lips and swallowed. “No.”

“That's alright. We can take things slow if you need to. Hold on a second.” He pulled back, grabbing his own shirt by the hem and pulling it off in one clean motion, showing off the broad shoulders and muscular body frame. “You just undress and relax on the bed. I'll go grab a few things from the bathroom.”

Stiles sat back, toes curling and uncurling from sheer nervousness. He rooted his fingers around in the t-shirt fabric sheets and rolled his eyes as he pulled out an old pair of boxers. “Shoulda changed the sheets before we did this.” he grumbled.

“Why? My scents permeated into everything in this room.”

“You're telling me. Takes being territorial to a whole new level.” Stiles eyed the bottle of lubricant and the condom. “They make those for weres?”

“No. But it'll be good for the first parts while we stretch. Once things get going though...” He grinned and winked, managing to look cute and cocky at the same time. “Don't you worry. I'll be careful.”

Stiled didn't say anything about it. In any other situation he would have insisted. But it wasn't like his biggest concern was catching something. Werewolves were immune to most human born STD's and it wasn't like getting pregnant was a possibility here. He scooched back on the bed, letting Derek push him down with a firm hand on his chest and settle down between his thighs. “How is this gonna go?”

“You don't worry about it. Just let me do all the hard work. You tell me if it's too fast or starts hurting.”

“Hurting?”

“Shush. Don't worry. Just focus on how good it's gonna feel.” Derek covered his lips in a kiss, tentative at first, warming the young man's lips up to his own. He waited until Stiles took initiative and opened his mouth, allowing their tongues to slip up against one anothers for a more intimate press. A soft wet pop sounded between them and Derek growled responsively as he saw the closed eyes and hungry expression of his partner. “See? Not so bad.”

Stiles nodded, leaning forward to offer another kiss. He made a sharp gasp when Derek caught him under the ass and pulled him up, adjusting him onto the bed where he wanted him to be. “Oh crap. Oh shit!” He gasped as the creature's mouth began to suck down on his neck, the graze of sharp teeth eliciting a little noise of concern. “You're gonna be careful with those, right?”

Derek chuckled in a low tone. “Don't you worry. A little nibbling never hurt anybody.”

“Except whenever a werewolf is concerned!” But he lost his train of thought when Derek growled, his eyes turning the brilliant shade of crimson which warned of the predator beneath the human skin. 

“Why don't you try it first, then see if you like it?” Derek took hold of Stiles and flipped him over easily, letting his chest press down onto the mattress as he continued to nuzzle. His weight held his partner in place effortlessly, though to be fair, Stiles wasn't putting up any sort of fight. He ran his fingers over Stiles’ ribs, watching the body start to roll up into the sensations. He worked his way down to the jeans and reached beneath him to undo the button with deft claws. A moan was stifled by the pillows, but Derek's ears pricked up nonetheless. “You doing alright there?”

Stiles nodded quickly and spread his legs, shifting from side to side as he was undressed. He'd never thought about whether he would feel different in this position with another man. He looked back over his shoulder, trying to guess what Derek thought of him. If the man's hand grabbing at his own crotch was any indication, he approved of the sight. “What do you need me to do?” he asked, not wanting to just lie there uselessly. 

“Nothing. Just lay back and enjoy yourself.” Derek growled and leaned in again, letting the itch behind his gums grow into the pointed canines. A darker kind of noise curled up through his throat, one born of a more hungry, rutting need. He strained to contain it. Nothing would be worse than to just slam forward and ruin this by being selfish. He was better than that. Instead he pushed his thumbs to the crest of Stiles’ round ass and parted it, enjoying the concerned gasp from his partner. He looked down at the soft dark hairs that curled protectively around the pink hole, admiring how pretty they were as they gathered up around the balls. “Let’s work you open a bit, huh?”

Stiles was about to say something when a tongue, hot, wet and wide, pushed up against his hole and began to work itself inward. “Ho! Uhm...okay uhm...what in the fuck are you doing?” He reached back, but his breath caught in his chest and he made a low, strained noise as he flopped back down to the sheets. This strange, unfair tickle was taking full advantage of him, lapping up at his hole with limber intentions. “Ok. Ouhhhhhkay.” He let himself moan, a sharp whine finishing off his thought process when the tongue parted his wrinkled entryway and pushed up within. 

Derek listened to the musical sounds and tried not to laugh as he moved his hand up over the thighs, scratching delicately to make the young man twitch at his call. As he predicted, Stiles arched his hips to try and escape the tickle, only to leave his balls and cock exposed. Derek lost no time in reaching up to take hold of the balls and begin rubbing them in earnest. He pulled back, leaving a wet circle where the hair had been matted down in a spiral before laughing. “You are such a cute little shit, you know that?”

“You're picking now to start this crap?” Stiles managed, but his next comment was broken off by the return of that tongue up his ass. Another little moan escaped him before he turned back to the pillows to protect himself from more embarrassing sounds. 

The werewolf smacked his lips, feeling the hole expand and contract around his tongue. He pulled at the balls just enough to create a pleasant tension before rising up and eagerly yanking his pants off, flinging them across the floor.

“Oh shit. Okay oh shit. Oh fuck fuck fuck...!” 

“Easy now. Easy there, Stiles.” Derek kept his tone low and comforting. “No rush. No rush. You'll know when I'm ready.” He reached for the lubricant and squirted a generous amount on his fingers, working one in by wriggling it this way and that. He paid close attention to how Stiles moved as he did. There was a fine line between gentle and firm, and he needed to be sure he was using the muscles in those tight walls to work for him, not against him. As he watched his young partners cock start to harden, he got a satisfactory grin on his smug face. “Told you I knew what I was doing.”

“Can you stop with the alpha wolf bullshit? Please? It's hhahaah!” Stiles lost his train of thought as another warm finger worked its way up and a new spark of pleasure bloomed up inside him. He fought to think again and groaned out. “It's not as attractive as you think!”

“But you like it, don't you?” He wandered along the tight path, spreading his fingers once in a while to get the entry open before pushing for the area that would make his prostate hum. It took a fair amount of probing, but a little patience went a long way and eventually he found himself pushing down and watching Stiles dance on his palm, hips swinging side to side as he tried to increase the new stimulation. “You were saying?” He asked and got a sharp moan as an answer. “That's what I thought.” He pushed a third finger inside, baring his teeth at the fraught tension that seemed determined to resist him. “No you don't. Come here.” He grumbled and pulled his fingers back towards his palm, rubbing the inner walls.

Stiles closed his eyes and bucked back, trying to reach under himself and grasped for his cock with keen desperation. He got a brief moment of relief when his hand managed to wrap around it and give himself a few quick jerks. But for whatever reason, Derek was having none of it. His wrist was just as quickly grabbed and pulled away from his swollen cock. “Hey!”

“Don't you worry about that. Just focus on my fingers.” Derek told him and slowly withdrew them, watching the asshole contract in an attempt to return to normal. “Now, let's get to the fun part huh?”

“Oh so what was it up till now?” Stiles grumbled before he saw the shadow loom over him. He pressed his lips together into a fine line and took a deep breath. “Go slow. Right? Go slow?”

“Slow and steady buddy.” Derek assured him and tore open the condom wrap before starting at the top and sliding it on over his cock. He'd always had a talent for getting hard quick and keeping himself going for a long time. Maybe it was a perk of being a werewolf. Who knew. But it helped nonetheless as he lined himself up and ran the heft of his prick up and down along the crevasse. He could sense the younger man shaking, nervous to be penetrated for the first time. Derek laid his hands along the man's hips and pet him in little circles, trying to soothe. “Don't worry. Just let me show you how it's done.” 

Stiles nodded and his breath shook as the large, firm head of the cock pushed up against his hole. There was a few seconds of valiant resistance as he clenched from instinct alone. Derek neither pushed down nor tried to jerk him back, just sat there and let the lubrication and pressure do it's work naturally. “Oh god.” Stiles moaned as he felt a kind of weird tingling burn. “Oh god f-fuck. Fuck. Oh...”

The cock breached quite suddenly, and his hole had no choice but to embrace the girth.

“FUCK!” Stiles shoved his head face first into the pillow and let out a low, pained groan.

“Deep breath.”

“I am breathing!” He yelled back and bit his tongue, trying to deal with the strain. He could feel something cool being squirted on his hole, Derek providing more lube to help him out. He smacked his lips and took several deep breaths before sniffling and nodding, widening his stance. “Okay. Okay I-I think I'm ready.”

“Good. Cause I've been ready for days.” Derek growled and pushed down, letting his cock grind up so that the walls would erode before his presence. He leaned his head back and bared his teeth, thrilling at the wet heat now wrapped around him. If he'd have been anywhere else, he might have roared out his delight. But he managed to hold back for now. 

Stiles winced and made a face as he let the cock sink in until the balls were pressed up to the crack of his ass. He whined under his breath, fighting with himself about telling Derek to stop. He lifted himself up enough to pull his head out of the pillows.

Then the were began to drag himself back out.

~Oh...shit.~ Stiles opened his mouth in a silent scream and the weird, commanding pleasure washed over him in a shuddering wave. He felt the retraction damn him in seconds, leaving him empty when the man popped out and spread his hole wide, seeing what he had done. The next descent felt better than the first, and the third felt even better than that! Stiles lost track of his brain somewhere, enough so that he did not notice it when Derek removed the condom and hovered over him, tucking the body up against him as his cock began to grow.

“Get ready.” Came the growl that brooked no resistance. He stroked himself up a few times more, feeling the weight of his prick increase until his fingers could not touch around it. Derek drew his hand down to the forming knot, squeezing it just hard enough to aggravate the pulsing erection. He watched Stiles pant a little and nodded, content that he was ready for more. 

The crooning little pants only served to make him tighten, and Stiles took the next entry beautifully! He arched his hips up and felt a hot chuffing at his neck. A few ragged thrusts made him grab for his cock again desperately, but Derek simply pushed his hands down and held them in place, keeping him in a submissive position. 

“I said relax.” Derek grunted and sunk his teeth into Stiles’ shoulder, giving just enough of a bite to maintain his hold as the knot ground up against the hole and popped in, vanishing between the man's cheeks. He got the reaction he thought he'd get, Stiles howling and struggling momentarily as his body grew used to the hard, filling push into his body. A short snarl brought him back into his place and Derek loosened his jaws, soothing the marks with a few licks. “Easy now. Good. Like that.” He thrust his hips back and forth, slowly at first, letting the knot pull at the hole until it sucked it's way off. The returning thrust went in much easier and he could feel precum wetting the tip of Stiles’ cock. “That's it. See how good it is when you listen? You don't need to touch it. I'll take care of everything.” 

Stiles’ eyes rolled back as every push knocked him senseless, his chest rising and falling rapidly. How could something ache so bad but feel so damn good? It was like it was hitting some deep, carnal part of himself he hadn't known existed until this moment! He closed his eyes and just fell back into Derek's arms, letting himself be fucked thoroughly by the were's throbbing, knotted cock. It demanded entry into him, now that it knew entry was possible, the twisted hollow sounds of lubrication filling the room. Stiles whined and mouthed words that could not free themselves from his throat. His dick was begging for a little attention, and yet he couldn't even rub it up against the sheets! His thighs burned, his hips ached, and his ass! Well it just wasn't fair! 

Derek muttered something sweet and dirty into his ear, but he didn't catch it. All he could feel was the strength of the alpha balls deep in him. He could smell the rich, musky aroma of rutting in the air. He gave himself over to it and began to rock back with no sense of timing, eager to let it drive him into the next high. It happened all too soon. Stiles couldn't hold out for much longer, as if all his stress and concerns had been bundled up and repressed until his body could seek out some form of relief. He bit his bottom lip, his throaty groan straining out as Derek found just the right angle and began to fuck him until he lost the ability to keep his hips elevated. He lay flat on the bed, taking the cock until he felt his own strain and twitch under him, squirting out a hot pool of jizz to smear over his belly and the sheets. It sputtered twice more, every slam up his ass pushing it forward until his muscles lost their tension and all he could do was go limp.

Derek was not quite finished with him yet. He took full advantage of the situation, driving himself forward, enjoying the exhausted compliance being offered as he set his teeth to Stiles' shoulder again, happy to hold him under his body. He growled into his new partner's ear, offering him soothing words to help him. “You did so well. That was so good. Don't you worry. I've got you. Just relax. I'm here to take care of you from now on.” He got a meek groan back, which was enough to let him know he'd been heard. He turned his head away so he wouldn't yell in Stiles' ear as he came, his orgasm shooting a heavy load up into the waiting ass. He twitched along with it, straining to keep himself going as long as possible before he too fell back and sighed, pulling his cock from the hole with a loud, wet noise. 

For a long moment they just lay there next to one another. Derek reached down to hold Stiles' hand, interlacing their fingers in a silent reassurance. After a few minutes he smacked his lips and turned his head over. “I'll go get a washcloth. You need anything?”

“Water? Tylenol maybe?”

Derek laughed gently but nodded. “Okay. Rest. I'll take care of everything. Tomorrow the pack will be over. We'll discuss what to do about your friend Scott then.” The powerful alpha stood up slowly, stretching as his proportions returned to a relatively normal state. “You're a part of my pack now, Stiles. And I protect what's mine. I made a promise not to hurt your friend, and I'll keep my word. But I want you to understand that this has to be dealt with. If a wolf can't hold his territory, his problems tend to seep out into other areas. If he's a threat to his own pack, he's a threat to mine.”

“I understand that. I do. And we'll come up with a solution. But please, don't make any moves until we've found a way to solve this without shedding any blood on either side.” 

Derek nodded firmly. “Get some sleep. We've got a lot to deal with tomorrow.”


End file.
